


she said use your hands and my spare time

by kay_emm_gee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Hook-Up, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 15:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18524740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: She was here, he knew it. Only Lyanna would wear beat-up sneakers with a cocktail dress to a party like the ones their families attended. Her father would be fit to be tied at the choice, since he had big, important plans for all of his children.A sharp warmth bloomed in his chest, as it always did when he thought about Lyanna and the ease with which she gave the middle finger to familial expectations. He was not nearly so good at not caring what people thought, though she was teaching him a thing or two about that.She was teaching him a thing or two about something else as well.





	she said use your hands and my spare time

**Author's Note:**

> ASOIAF RarePairs Prompt: "Modern AU. She kisses him to make Robert jealous. But then she finds that she rather likes his kisses and doesn’t want him to stop."
> 
> I’m envisioning these two being 18-20ish y.o. for reference. Also, the title is lyrics from “Sex” by The 1975.

Jaime felt his stomach drop when he spotted dirty blue Converse sneakers amongst the sea of loafers and high heels that the gala’s attendees were wearing. She had come, after all.

Stifling the urge to tug at his collar, Jaime stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to listen to whatever Mace was blathering on about with his father. Tywin sent him a sharp look, not missing his momentary lapse in attention. Jaime resisted a grimace; if his father was suffering this onslaught, then apparently he was not exempt from listening as well.

A few moments later, his father extracted himself from the conversation without also giving Jaime an excuse to leave–a subtle, clever punishment. Mace did not even miss a beat, apparently thrilled about getting to talk shop with the heir apparent to Lannister, Inc. Irritated, Jaime pasted a bland smile on his face as he contemplated simply walking away. Although that would amuse his sister, it would infuriate his father. He had already been skirting that line too much lately, so it was a temptation that he couldn’t bring himself to give into.

Just when he felt as if his brain would turn to mush from having to share one more blustering laugh with Mace, however, a server tapped him on the shoulder.

“You are wanted out in the lobby, sir.”

Jaime barely held back a grin as he practically ran away from Mace. His dress shoes clicked on the marble floor of the banquet hall, dulling as he walked out onto the carpet of the lobby. As he looked around, however, he saw no flash of dark hair, heard no teasing comment from behind him.

He waited for a few moments. She  _was_ here, he knew it. Only Lyanna would wear beat-up sneakers with a cocktail dress to a party like the ones their families attended. Her father would be fit to be tied at the choice, since he had big, important plans for all of his children.

A sharp warmth bloomed in his chest, as it always did when he thought about Lyanna and the ease with which she gave the middle finger to familial expectations. He was not nearly so good at not caring what people thought, though she was teaching him a thing or two about that.

She was teaching him a thing or two about something else as well.

His gaze drifted to a non-descript door, which he noticed, with a start, was ajar. A slow smile spread across his face, and he casually made his way towards it. Once he was sure no one was watching him, he slipped inside the room.

Or inside the closet, rather. It seemed to be extra space for coats, in case the coat check overflowed. All of the racks were empty, however, and Jaime’s pulse jumped. Empty racks meant no one was likely to enter–or to interrupt.

“Took you long enough,” Lyanna said with a grin from her perch on stool. Her light grey dress almost glowed in the darker shadows of the small room. She held a small platter of appetizers in one hand, and a half-eaten mini-quiche in the other.

Jaime chuckled as he shut the door behind him. “I would’ve come sooner if I knew to expect you.”

“Caught you off guard, did I?”

As he searched for a retort–she  _had_  surprised him by coming tonight–she hopped off the stool. Setting down the tray, she wiped at the corner of her mouth with her thumb. The motion pulled at something in Jaime, and he stepped closer.

“This event just got a lot more interesting for me,” he murmured.

She made a face. “Bobby said almost the same thing when he saw me.”

Immediately, Jaime reached for her chin and tipped it up. Lyanna stared back at him with her grey eyes, unreadable except for those constant flashes of mischief that, in the right light, looked more like defiance. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t dare voice his question out loud.

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Her declaration was quiet, but hard.

“Seems like you do, since you brought him up,” he shot back.

Her hands slipped inside his suit coat, caressing his sides. “And what are you going to do about it, then?”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

The corners of Lyanna’s mouth curled up, and that sight–a teasing but soft smile–was a spark to tinder inside of Jaime. He needed her–her mouth, her sighs, her complete attention. He walked her up against the closet wall, with his hands bracketing her head on either side and their bodies pressed up together. Her fingers traced idle shapes against his ribcage, making his skin prickle with awareness.

Leaning down, he placed his mouth a breath away from hers, but when he heard her breath catch, he moved it down, kissing the edge of her jaw instead. As usual, however, she didn’t stand for much teasing. Soon enough, she brought his lips back up to hers and captured them entirely.

He let himself get lost in Lyanna until a boisterous laughter sounded right outside their hiding place. Jerking away, Jaime looked down at her, breathing heavily.

He recognized that laugh–only a Baratheon could be that loud–and it pissed him off.

“Now, then? ” He asked, the amusement in his tone faltering as it caught on the bitter taste that those words left in his mouth. “Can’t say you picked a bad time. Everyone who is anyone to us is here. You’ll have quite the audience.”

“Not now,” she hissed. Then, more softly, she murmured, “No, not now. I–I only asked the waiter to deliver one message tonight.”

 _To you._ She shrugged and looked down, toying with the edge of his collar.

That took him off guard. Ever since  _this_ had started with her–this idle thing, a game she had proposed to get even with her boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, or whatever she and Bobby were–he had been waiting for her to spring the trap. Lyanna had come to him for a petty kind of revenge, and if it meant knocking Bobby B down a peg, then Jaime was all for it.

Yet Lyanna hadn’t seemed to be able to find the right time to deliver the final blow. This party, with all of their families in attendance, would certainly be perfect, but it seemed she wasn’t ready.

He let out a breath with something like relief, then leaned in and whispered, triumphantly, “Good.”

Jaime cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth roughly to his in a kiss that almost might be called claiming. She fisted her hands into his shirt and arched up against him–as always, determined to finish what he started. As she began loosening his tie, he slid his hands down until they were under her thighs and hauled her up. He pressed her back against the wall, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Nice trick,” she said with a grin.

“If you’re impressed by that…”

Lyanna rolled her eyes. “I  _liked_ it, but I wouldn’t say it’s particularly impressive.”

“You won’t be saying that about–”

She cut him off with a quick, hard kiss, then pulled away with a laugh. “I think that mouth can be put to better use than speaking cliché dirty quips.”

“If my lady commands,” Jaime drawled, leaning in with a single-minded intent to show her just how right she was. 


End file.
